


Tagruk the Dwarf

by Serriya (Keolah)



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Dwarves, Gen, Gnomes, Original Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1994-01-01
Updated: 1994-01-01
Packaged: 2017-11-14 05:30:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,179
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/511830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A young dwarf goes to a school for adventurers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tagruk the Dwarf

The entrance to Kelsen Bay was lined with towers instead of trees. They cast an ominous look unto the blue-grey harbor, stunning any who gazed upon them with awe. The little ship Tokkol seemed insignificant in the shadow of the towers, little more than a rowboat in the fading sunlight. But Tokkol was no mere rowboat. The ship brought new candidates for the war Academy on Kolmin-Dar.

Kolmin-Dar: a name that could strike fear into the hearts of millions. The Dwarvish island in the lands of Domgad-Festig was world-renowned for the skilled and cunning adventurers that passed out of its gates after the ten years of intense training. Unlike the soldiers of Flyland and Reezahn, the men and women that came out of Kolmin-Dar were no mindless killers: they were intelligent as well as dexterous. Strength was optional for the candidates of the Kolmin-Dar Academy. To be eligible to enter, the people--be it man or woman, Dwarf or Human, Gnome, Elf, Zephyl, or even a Troll--had to have the ability to learn. If nothing else went in their favor, anyone might be accepted if they could learn. 

On board the Tokkol came a seemingly small and insignificant candidate with the mind of ten people. He came, like many of the others, from the island of Gavbek-Tar. His name was Tagruk Sadkul, from the city of Gazbux, at the entrance to the bay with the same name. His family, unable to support him and his seven brothers and sisters at the same time, sent him off to the Academy to help them earn a living. Even then, his brother Belkit had been sent likewise to the island of Jatzal-Gat to be an apprentice and assistant to a well-to-do blacksmith. 

The ship landed at the port not far from the mouth of the bay. The dozen handpicked candidates filed onto the land. A pair of Dwarves directed the candidates to the rooms in which they would stay. The candidates followed. 

When Tagruk arrived at his utilitarian room, he lay down his meager belongings upon the hard wooden cot. His family had never been rich: all he claimed in the world was a kitchen knife and the clothes on his back. The room, though not welcoming, would be his home if he were accepted into the Academy. It was his strongest desire to be accepted. He didn't want to be required to go home, a failure. He wouldn't let his family down. 

Though Tagruk was only seven, that was the usual age for new candidates. Vacations were usually infrequent and brief, but there were enough of them over the ten-year span for students to keep in touch with friends and relatives on one's home island. 

Tagruk was determined and cunning, though he didn't know at the time that those were the two most important traits to have if one wished to do well at the Academy on Kolmin-Dar. 

After a good rest that night, the sun rose over the towers of Kelsen Bay. Sunshine streamed into Tagruk's room, awakening him. He looked out the window as he placed the sharp knife at his belt, sensing that this would be an eventful day. He walked over to his door and found a note slid under it. It read, "Welcome, noble candidate, to the Island of Kolmin-Dar. To be accepted to the Academy, you must simply enter the Hall of the Rainbow Curtain. Good luck!"

"Hall of the Rainbow Curtain," he said to himself. "Where might that be?" He shrugged and stuffed the note deep into his pocket. Then he left the room. 

The Dwarf emerged in a corridor high above the bay, upon an arch that stretched between two of the towers. Seeing noplace else to go, Tagruk strode down the silent hallway. He came to a fork between a stairway and another corridor. Prefering the ground to the towers, Tagruk descended the stairway. 

The stairs ended and Tagruk saw a Gnome boy, no older than himself, entering the corridor at the same time. The Gnome looked confused as he aproached the Dwarf. 

"Do you know where the Hall of the Rainbow Curtain is?" asked the Gnome in a quiet voice. 

"That's what I was looking for. Are you a candidate, too?" wondered Tagruk. 

The Gnome nodded. "My name is Tyer Eckemis." 

"Tagruk Sadkul."

"Do you think there's a conspiracy against us candidates?"

The Dwarf was surprised. "No. Why?"

"What do you say we do some spying to find out?"

"Wonderful idea. You take the right door, and I'll take the left."

The Gnome nodded his acceptance and strode through the right hand door. Tagruk took the left one into an attic. How he got to an attic was puzzling. 

A chest stood near the door, and he eagerly opened it and examined the contents. There sat a dozen or so books within the dusty confines of the chest. Tagruk grabbed the nearest and opened to the first page. 

"The Tale of Morgat the Terrible," read the Dwarf. Though he had heard the story before, he read on.

* * *

Once, in the great land of Sorjel-Fam lived a powerful wizard named Morgat. He lived deep within a dark forest in the Mountains of Jafban-Jar. His power was taken from the lives of any creature, man or beast, that crossed his path. When he could find no new victim, he drained the life from the trees themselves or wandered out into the countryside. On one such occurrence, Morgat stumbled upon the fishing village of Faspit. 

Faspit was a town inhabited by an Elf named Sarvelsiak, a visitor from the Kingdom of Song. He was a simple trader, but had a powerful weapon against such evils as Morgat. He had a single Feather from the red kabar. The kabar is a magical bird which lives in the riverlands of Zarhanna. All different colors exist, but the red is the most violent and aggressive. This Sarvelsiak had ready when Morgat entered the village. 

"You come to the wrong place!" cried Sarvelsiak, raising the Feather high above his head. The quill pulsed suddenly with light, and a ring of silver fire surrounded the wizard. He broke through the light with a black sword, but the Feather pulsed again, and the blade shattered. Morgat rose a glistening pike, and the plume throbbed once more. His spear fell to the ground in a pile of ash. 

The wizard refused to abmit defeat, so he hid himself in a Shadowcloak, veiling him from the prying eyes of Sarvelsiak. The Elf stood placidly as the Red Feather pulsed a final time, locking the cowering wizard in a prison of his own making. Morgat shouted for his freedom, which Sarvelsiak refused to grant. The Elf placed the magical quill pack in his pocket and let the puzzled Dwarven fishermen around to keep watch on the wizard, should he break free.

* * *

Tagruk puzzled over this for a few minutes, but, since it didn't get him any closer to his goal, he put the book away and left to meet Tyer the Gnome.


End file.
